The Troubles of Mistress Rose
by Millikov
Summary: When Sam accompanies Frodo to Rivendell for Bilbo's Hundred and Thirty-First birthday, Rose is troubled by Sam's devotion to Frodo. No slash, just some nice Sam/Rose lovin'. As always, Feedback and Constructive Criticism is appreciated.


Disclaimer: Not mine. Tolkien's.

  


The Troubles of Mistress Rose

  


"Rosie dear," Sam said to his wife as she entered the bedroom.

"Yes Sam?" she replied, planting an affectionate kiss on his cheek and turning to arrange the bed clothing for the night.

"Mr. Frodo'll be going to Rivendell to visit Mr. Bilbo for his hundred and thirty-first birthday," continued Samwise, sliding under the cool white sheets.

"Mm…" Rose pulled a brush through her hair, trying to untangle all the snarls in her mass of fine curls.

"And I'll be accompanying him for a little ways, Rosie. I won't be gone long, a fortnight or so."

The brush froze midway through making it's path down to the ends of Rose's hair.

"Oh." Was all she could say. "Oh, well that's fine Sam, love," the brush continued its journey up and down her hair, pulling through the curls rather vigorously. "You haven't been out of the Shire for ever so long, and I'm sure you miss journeying with Mr. Frodo, like in the days of the Great Adventure. "

"Aye, I do, Rosie. Just a little. With Mr. Frodo and Mr. Strider and the rest of the Fellowship," Sam smiled, remembering the Quest of the Ringbearer, those days of fear and peril that he could now look back on and smile, thinking it a very Great (and rather Fine) Adventure indeed. "Someone needs to keep Mr. Frodo company on his trip, see, Rosie dear," he told her keenly, his eyes shining at the prospect of another expedition with Frodo, no matter how brief it would be. "And someone will have to care for him."

He started and looked at her image in the mirror rather anxiously. "You will be fine, won't you, Rosie? I don't feel right comfortable with leaving you and Elanor all alone at Bag End. But someone has to look after Mr. Frodo, to mind him and all."

Rosie forced herself to laugh. "Little Elanor and I will be all right, Sam, love. It's only a fortnight." She blew out the lamp and crawled into bed. "Now go to sleep, Master Samwise."

But Rosie stayed awake long into the night, listening the soft sound of her husband's steady breathing as he slumbered. She did not quite know what to make of this. Why, just last week, after she had managed to persuade Sam to tuck little Elanor into bed, instead of having his usual nighttime chat with Mr. Frodo, she had handed Frodo a cup of hot tea and sat down with him to have a Talk.

"Mr. Frodo," she had said, smoothing her skirt. "I think that you're quite a excellent hobbit, sir, letting us stay with you in Bag End, and I mean no offence against you."

"It's all right Rose, what is it?" he smiled kindly, sipping his tea. 

"Well, sir, Sam takes very good care of you." She plucked at the hem of her skirt. "And sometimes I think he takes…well, he takes almost too good care of you, sir, if you get my meaning. He's a wonderful hobbit, and as fine a husband that any hobbit-lass could dream of, but it seems to me that he could be…" her eyes strayed to the dimly lit room down the hall, where Frodo and her could hear the faint sound of Sam singing little Elanor to sleep.  Rose sat up and squared her shoulders. "He…he should be tucking Elanor into bed a lot more than he does now, instead of staying up and talking over mugs of steaming tea.  And sometimes, just sometimes, it would be nice to have your husband help you with the groceries on market day, instead of…instead of…"

"Instead of staying at Bag End to fuss over Mr. Frodo, and the garden." Frodo finished.

"I don't mean to cause offense in any way, sir, and I don't hold it against you, or Sam."

"No, Rose, and no offense is taken," Frodo reached over to pat her hand reassuringly. "Why, I should have realized this ages ago. It's not fitting for a husband to look after his friend more than he does his wife and child."

"Oh no, sir, I don't mean that he should stop caring for you," Rose said hastily. "Because he shouldn't stop taking care of you, and the both of you are the dearest of friends. What I mean is that he should start spending a little more time with Elanor and…well, with the family. Not that you aren't considered practically family, sir."

"I know, Rose, and you needn't worry. I'll see to it that dear old Sam spends more time tucking Elanor into bed, and all."

"Thank you, sir," Rose smiled at Frodo in relief and gratitude.

"No thanks is needed, Rose," Frodo returned the smile. "It's the least I could do."

Rose sighed and turned over in bed, remembering the Talk she had.  Hadn't Mr. Frodo said that he'd see to it that Sam spends more time with Elanor, and with her? Then why was he taking her husband away from her? But no, Mr. Frodo had a good heart. Maybe…why, maybe he thought that one last expedition would ensure that Sam would stop reminiscing about those days, the Great Adventure. Maybe he would have a talk with Sam along the way, or maybe Frodo took Sam along hoping that Sam would realize that he missed his wife and child. Maybe, she reassured herself. Mr. Frodo had some purpose in asking Sam to accompany him, even if she didn't know what it was. Rose closed her eyes and tried to get some sleep, feeling a little more comforted than she was before.

September the twenty first rolled around, and Rose bustled about in the kitchen, wrapping up apples and honey-cakes for Frodo and Sam to bring along. 

"Here you go, Sam," she handed him the food parcels. "For you and Mr. Frodo."

"Thank you, dearest Rosie," Sam answered, taking the packages gratefully from his wife. She scooped up Elanor and followed Sam as out of the kitchen, and out of Bag End. Frodo emerged several moments later, with two stout, slim walking sticks, and handed one to Sam.

"Ready to go Sam?" he asked his friend.

"Almost, Mr. Frodo, almost." Sam turned to Rose, who was hugging little Elanor to her. 

"Good bye, Sam." Said Rosie Cotton abruptly, adjusting the ribbon in her daughter's hair.

He stared at Rose and his young daughter worriedly. "Take care of yourself and Elanor, won't you, Rosie dear?" he said, tousling Elanor's hair.

"I will, Sam."

"Well then…" Sam looked his feet, and then at Rose. "Good bye, Rosie."

"Take care."

Sam paused for a moment, then turned and mounted Bill.

"Off on another adventure, eh, Sam?" Frodo said to his companion cheerily, as he swung up on Strider, his pony. 

"Yes indeed, Mr. Frodo," Sam replied, urging Bill on to a trot. But it seemed to Frodo that he did it rather reluctantly. And after traveling a short distance, Sam glanced back and saw his wife and child standing outside Bag End, the wind gently caressing their hair. The rising sun shone golden and bright onto Elanor's fair hair like a crown, and its warm light kissed Rose's cheeks, flushed a gentle pink.

"Go on, Sam," urged Frodo.

"I think I will, Mr. Frodo." Sam replied. He slid off Bill, and walked toward Rose and Elanor. Rose looked up and saw him, and a radiant smile lit up her face. She put Elanor on the ground, and the little hobbit-lass took a few, unsteady steps toward her father. Sam ran and scooped her up in his arms, laughing, as she giggled and clapped her hands in delight. Sam looked at Rose, his gaze earnest.

"I will miss you both, rather dreadfully." Said he.

"I know, Sam, love," replied his wife, and she kissed his brow. "Now go on, Frodo is waiting."

"Good bye, Rosie dearest."

Sam let his hand rest on Rose's cheek for a brief moment, before he turned and walked back up the dirt path, beaming.

Rose hugged Elanor and watched the receding forms of Frodo and her husband, who would glance back at her every now and then, smiling. When they had finally disappeared over the hills, she turned and returned into the hobbit-hole. Bag End would be lonely without Sam; she would go to her Father's place to stay for a while. She grinned, thinking of how Tolman Cotton would shake his head in mock disapproval, and dub her husband to be 'Positively Tookish'.

She kept herself busy whilst waiting for Sam's return, Elanor was a lively little hobbit-lass, and there was also her parents, and the farm. Mr. Peregrin and Mr. Meriadoc came to visit once, and they thrilled and delighted the Cotton family with their stories of the Great Adventure and other such tales (though Rose suspected that they might've been playing up the tales a bit, judging from Sam's telling of some of the events).  They even brought along a rose for her, that Mr. Meriadoc had handed to her with an exaggerated and comical flourish, saying "a rose for the Rose", which made her laugh. They were funny, Mr. Meriadoc and Mr. Peregrin, with their infallible good nature. And word around the Shire was that Mr. Peregrin was courting Diamond of Long Cleeve, that lovely hobbit-lass. And what was this news that Mr. Meriadoc had his eye on Estella Bolger? Rose delighted in staying with her parents again; it brought back memories in those days of Not So Long Ago (last year, in fact). A week passed much quicker than Rose had expected, and at the start of second week since Sam's departure, Rose packed her bags once more, picked up little Elanor, and headed back to Bag End. There was so much to do, she had to tidy up the place and give it a thorough cleaning while Sam and Frodo were out of the way. 

By the fourteenth day, Rose was spending most of her time outdoors, waiting eagerly for the silhouette of her husband perched on his pony to appear on the rise of the furthest hill that she could see. And on the sixteenth day, October the sixth, she saw a lone figure on his mount appear on that hill. Rose squinted her eyes. Why, that hobbit resembled her Sam remarkably. As the figure drew nearer, Rose became increasingly certain that it was Sam. She took Elanor's hand and guided her as she toddled into the hobbit-hole. There Rose set herself to stoking the fire and hurriedly fixing up a substantial meal for Sam. When she heard the sound of Bill's hooves outside Bag End, she gathered Elanor up in her arms and hurried out to meet him, as he swung open the door of the hobbit-hole. And she wordlessly smiled at him, took his head, drew him into their home and sat Elanor upon his lap.

"Well I'm back," he said, taking a deep breath.

"So you are, Sam, love," Rose replied. 

"Mr. Frodo is gone," he said. 

"He'll be back, Sam," Rose said.

"No, Rosie dear, he won't. He's gone to the Grey Havens with the Elves." 

"Oh." Rose was at a loss for words. She suddenly felt a rush of gratitude towards Frodo, although she knew that he did not leave solely because of the Talk (she would feel terrible if he did). But she knew that he had understood, and for that she was thankful. 

Sam picked Elanor up and swung her around the room, as Rose laughed at watched.

"How you've grown, little Elanor!" he teased her, before he kissed her and sat her down. 

"Maybe I'll go join Mr. Frodo in the Undying Lands one day." Sam's eyes were distant. "And see the elves once more! That would be grand."

As she heard him speak those words, the smile on Rose's lips began to fade. But Sam looked at his Rosie, and he walked over to her and kissed her cheek.

"One day," he smiled at his beautiful wife, and then sat down to begin his meal. "One day I'll go. But not now. Not yet. Not for a long, long time. Not while I still have my dear Rosie and my fair Elanor with me."

And Rose looked at her sweet, sweet Sam with his sweet, sweet face, and she closed her eyes and smiled. She had now. And now was good enough for her.


End file.
